Meet the Family
by mar-map
Summary: "America was quite taken with England, and he wanted his children to be set straight.  All fifty of them."  America takes England on a trip across the country.
1. Prologue

(**Disclaimer:** I do not claim to own Hetalia: Axis Powers in any way.)

Rain poured viciously outside. It lashed against the windows. America reached up to fiddle with one of England's strands of blond hair. England, however, was buried heavily in some stuffy old book of his.

England's house sure was boring when it rained. Sure, he could turn on the television, but it didn't seem worth the effort to do so. He wanted England to pay attention to him not the book that he was reading.

America happily wrapped his arms around England's torso. He nuzzled into the older nation's side. "I love you," America purred into England's shirt. He nuzzled closer, lovingly.

"I love you too." England patted America's head lightly. No smile graced the Englishman's features. The concentrated crease in his eyebrows didn't even consider smoothing out. England's emerald eyes never left the faded yellow pages of his apparently engrossing novel. All America received was a boyish pat on the head.

Well, seemed like it was time to bring out the big guns.

"I want you to meet my kids."

That grabbed England's attention quite well really. The faded old book fell to the ground, but England made it seem causal, planned. America sure had the other blond's attention now. In fact, he was fairly certain that England hadn't yet blinked.

"What was that, Alfred?" England's tone was incredibly patient. he gently ran his fingers through the American's blond hair. It was exactly like England thought he was a little boy who had just suggested something completely outlandish.

America frowned indignantly. He wasn't little anymore, and he hated when England slipped back into those old habits. The American was fairly certain England didn't mean to do it, hell, he probably never even noticed! America was angry just the same.

The American had put quite a lot of thought into the issue. Both nations had been dating for decades. The only way any of his children saw England, however, was as a vindictive old man. America was very taken with England and he wanted his children to be set straight. All fifty of them.

**/Author's Note: So, I've been working on this idea for quite a while but I just recently started it. I'm going to give a warning first off that it will probably be fairly long. I have to fit in all fifty states! Also, don't take offense if you don't particularly care for how your state was portrayed. I'm not basing them off anything in particular, and I cannot have them all on great speaking terms with Alfred or Arthur./**


	2. Dancin' with New York

(**Disclaimer:** I do not claim to own Hetalia: Axis Powers in any way.

New York was the obvious place to start their new endeavor. he lived nearby Washington D.C. - where Alfred lived himself - and in more recent years, was the state England had had the most contact with. America just hoped that New York would be calm when they came for their visit. He was known for his parties and long nights out.

If he was in a party mood, this was going to be a long visit.

England had taken nearly three months off work in the office. He was to keep up to date through phone calls with the Prime Minister, and if anything went terribly wrong he was to take the first flight home. America hated the conditions but finally agreed to them in the end.

"You're sure he won't mind if we come in unannounced?' England asked nervously. The older nation had had some rather interesting run-ins with New York in Washington. He wasn't sure if he wanted to have a run-in with the state in his own home.

"We're not unannounced!" America took the other's hand and pulled him inside. He sat the English nation down on the couch in New York's parlor. "i called him earlier. Now you stay here while I go get our stuff." America planted a quick kiss to England's pouting lips. "Wait here, babe."

England was ready to snap angrily behind him, but America raced out o the room with hysterical laughter. With the American nation safely gone, England allowed and endeared smile to form on his lips. However, the American was back too quickly, and England was forced to hurriedly wipe it away.

"What?" America was with a hint of concern when he saw the look plastered on the island nation's face. "Oh, c'mon, Iggy, you can't be mad that I told you to sit down and relax." America sat down next to the other with a whine.

England simply crossed his arms. "Oh, yes, I can."

"Fine," America snapped. His won arms crossed, and he looked away pointedly. "Next time you get to carry all the bags in. Seriously, dude, do you know how much stuff you packed?" America continued to pout and refuse to look at his friend.

Out of the corner of his eye, England watched the younger nation. He let out a soundless sigh. "Thank you for bringing in the luggage, Alfred." England leaned across the couch to kiss America's cheek lightly. "That was very kind of you."

"Aww," America met their lips lovingly. "Thank, ya, Iggy. I was just kidding, you don't have to carry in everything when we go to Pennsylvania's place. Thank wouldn't be very heroic of me." America nuzzled against the older nation's neck. England couldn't help but flush. They couldn't snog on a stranger's couch! It didn't matter that said stranger was one of America's children. Actually, that made the notion even worse!

The two nations forced themselves apart when the front door hanged open rater loudly. England's flush darkened while America sprang lightly into action. "Hey! Dad!" New York sang happily when he noticed his father on the couch. "Looking' for a party?"

"Not today, Mike," America answered. He coughed to cover the awkward atmosphere, as he went to embrace his son. "I'm here to introduce England, remember? I called a few days ago?"

"England!" the old nation was reminded very much of America from New York. From personality down to that stupid cowlick, they were almost like twins. "you never called though, dude, I've already got plans and stuff.." He leaned over to whisper to the American, "Quebec's comin' over. Don't tell Uncle Canada though, he doesn't know about it. Gotta go change, we're going' dancin'! Wanna come?"

"Well..." America glanced over at England.

"We'd love to," the island nation answered.

"Sweet! Meet me in the car in ten minutes!"

New York raced up the stairs in search for a change of clothes apparently. "Hey, Iggy, you know this won't be like one of your dances, right? This'll be New York City swing." America seemed almost nervous when he asked the question. He was fidgeting restlessly.

"I'm well aware of that fact, Alfred. I also made sure to pack for everything. Wold you care to show me to my room, so I can get prepared?" America just watched England blankly before showing him up the stairs.

USUK - MTF

When England had said he packed for everything, he hadn't been lying. The older nation was now sitting next to him in skinny jeans and a leather jacket. I took all of America's will-power not to jump him where he sat.

New York was sitting in the driver's seat with Quebec next to him. Every once in a while she would slip into French and New York would laugh it off as it was rather obvious that he didn't understand any French. She would, however, hold a conversation with England in French. Normally speaking another language would make him more appealing - America loved watching television in other languages even if he didn't understand what they were saying. Hearing England spout out in French was simply making him angry. It definitely wasn't jealousy because heroes couldn't get jealous.

America was able to distract the Englishman by taking a hold of his hand and linking their fingers together. This seemed to occupy the other well enough. England would hiss quietly so that the two in the front couldn't hear, and he would try to pull his hand away soon resorting to trying to pry America's fingers off.

Finally he gave up with a huff and stared out the window with a pout. Now if America mentioned it England would viciously deny it. For that reason America chose to refrain from mentioning it. He allowed himself a quick, adoring smile at the action though. A flicker of green told America that England had chanced a glance at him from the corner of his eye.

America pecked the older nation's cheek with his lips While the act caused England to flush lightly it was also the act that brought him forgiveness. England brought America's hand - along with his own - up to kiss the American's knuckles lightly.

"Before the two of you star making out in the back of my car, can we go inside?" New York jerked his hand toward the building they were now parked outside. The valet was waiting to take the car from them.

England's face darkened quiet noticeably. He was infinitely glad that it was dark outside. England wasn't exactly sure when they had puled up, no to mention when America had released him to rush around and open his door.

America smirked when he saw the Englishman's blush darken. He hadn't know that it was even possible. However, when he held his hand out to the island nation, the flush darkened.

Unable to look at the American, England took his hand and allowed the other to pull him out. New York threw his keys toward the valet who easily caught them. The state linked his arm with Quebec's. "How long have the two of you been visiting each other, Mikey?" America asked his son.

"Few years," he answered. "What about you and Arthur?" He glanced over his shoulder and winked at the Englishman. "Not that I mind. Kathleen and I are just glad you're happy, Dad." America smirked at the first words of acceptance, and he kiss his lover's cheek.

"Off and on since the Second World War." He received a pointed look from England and added, "Mostly on though." England didn't seem to mind the answer so much anymore and allowed the issue to rest.

New York lead his little party up to the front of the line. They received quite a few glares along the way. "Mike!" the bouncer greeted him. "Didn't know you'd be down here tonight." He eyed America rather thoroughly. "Your brother?"

"Sure am!" America called enthusiastically. "One of many!" The bouncer smiled and seemed to approve of the newly acquainted American. He lifted the velvet rope and allowed them entrance.

"Kathleen and I are going to the floor," New York informed them over the blast of music. He pulled a nervous but laughing Quebec toward the dance floor below. They quickly disappeared to leave the two nations alone. Well, as alone as they could be in the overly crowded club.

"So..."

"Dance with me."

It was more of an order than anything else, and America wasn't about to refuse him. The younger nation was rather glad he hadn't suggested going to the bar. America would have appreciated a drunk England while staying with his son.

When England deemed that they were far enough into the crowd he stopped. The older nation wasn't looking at him, he had begun to dance. Man was it hot. His hips swung seductively, and his fingers traced his own petite frame. all America could do was stand there stupidly and drool happily at the sight. He wished desperately that it was his hands tracing England's body.

Then New York was at his side whispering - or rather, yelling - in his ear. "You do know that it's rude to stare, right? Come with me to the bar!" His son was pulling on his arm to guide him away from the dance floor.

It wasn't like he had really been dancing anyway, but...New York couldn't make him leave this! England was positively sexy as he edged closer to his American counterpart. "I can't leave!" America tried to yell but even his loud voice couldn't cut through the low music playing. His words were drowned out.

New York pulled him over to the bar and sat him down on a stool. When had his son become so strong? "So why are you really here, Dad?" the younger of the two asked. The sound level had died down where they were now and it was easy to talk without having to yell and be overheard. The state ordered two drinks when the bartender stopped by them.

"Came to introduce you to Arthur," America answered honestly. He found his eyes drifting toward the dance floor below their level to seek out England. He wasn't terribly hard to spot. He hadn't lost a beat when America had disappeared. Instead he'd accepted Quebec as his new dancing partner. While he didn't drift closer to her - this was Canada's daughter after all - the sexiness of his moves hadn't ceased.

New York simply quirked an amused eyebrow. "Now really, I mean we've met before."

"Yeah, I know, but I wanted to introduce this Arthur to you." He picked up the drink that had been set before him and sputtered a bit after taking a drink. "Cherry Cola?" he questioned his son.

The state simply shrugged. "I'm underage, so are you."

"That's what a fake I.D is for."

"Like I'd use that around my dad," New York snorted with a smile.

America couldn't help but smile back at him. Good choice. America would have taken it away immediately if New York had tried to use the thing. While he was still technically underage himself he'd lived for hundreds of years! He could drink if he wanted too. His children were a different story though.

"So you wanted to introduce me to the Arthur that dresses like a punk and clings all over you?" New York asked with some skepticism. He smiled though. His father really could be dense sometimes. "That's a little weird, just wanted you to know that."

"No! No, I didn't mean it like that!" America buried his head in his hands in embarrassment. New York just patted his shoulder in sympathy. He glanced around a bit nervously at the people beginning to stare at the two of them. "I guess I just wanted to show you all that he's not the jerk he used to be. Well, okay, he is sometimes, but not all the time!" America added quickly. "I just love him so much and wanted you all to love him just as much as I do."

New York smiled. "I know."

America looked up sharply and with slitted eyes. "Then why ask?"

"Just wanted to hear you say it. Yeah, I know Arthur's been a jerk to all of us over the years, but I don't necessarily think he's a douche all the time. I'm just glad you're happy, Dad. You were in the dumps all the time before the two of you got together. I don't think convincing everyone will be as hard as you think."

"He hasn't exactly been the nicest guy to some of the others though," America answered nervously. New York hadn't been his largest concern. Now, he was more worried about the ones that England had dealt with more. Not to mention that he wasn't exactly on the greatest terms with some of his kids. Those would be interesting visits.

"That past is the past, they'll get over it."

America smiled in appreciation at his son. When had he become so smart?

**/Author's Notes: So, I'm not sure how this chapter turned out? What do you think? I know the ending is fairly abrupt, but if I hadn't cut it off it would have continued along forever!**

**Have an idea on what you think a state should be named? Feel free to throw it out there! I'd love to hear you opinions! (Especially on that because it took me about two hours to finally on settling on Michael for New York, and I'm still not sure whether I like that or not.)**

**Reviews = Love**

**They also make my day infinitely better and today was a crappy one. ^^ /  
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	3. Louisiana Blues

(**Disclaimer:** I do not claim to own Hetalia: Axis Powers in any way.)

The moment the two of them stepped off of the plane, England knew that they weren't in Pennsylvania. The humidity levels had risen drastically and the plane ride in itself had taken much longer than it should have. So England may have fallen asleep during the ride, but he knew that it shouldn't have taken them that long to arrive in the nearby state.

"Where are we, Alfred?" England demanded with a hint of anger as they filed out of the plane with the rest of the passengers. England didn't protest when America plucked up his carry-on leaving England with free arms. He used this time to cross his arms angrily over his chest trying to glare at America while still keeping the line moving forward.

America just grinned sheepishly. "Louisiana," he answered.

"That's not exactly where we were headed now is it!"

"Actually, that was. Penny said she was busy this weekend with something, so we're going to go visit her later. Francie was free though! Besides it's warm down here!" America said in an attempt to please the Englishman.

It did nothing for the older blond's mood however. "It would have been warm in Pennsylvania too! It's summer!" England glowered and pulled his phone out of his pocket. While England was distracted by trying to turn the device on after their ride, America used the chance to place a kiss for forgiveness on the other's cheek. England waved his arms wildly to ward the other off.

"I'll go get a cab. Wait for our stuff?" America asked sheepishly. He pointed in the direction of the baggage claim. England just nodded vaguely and went toward the claiming area. Dialing the number for the Prime Minister, he waited patiently for someone to answer or one of their bags to come through the rack.

"Arthur, how are you doing?" the Prime Minister's voice came through the line. At the same moment he caught sight of one of their bags. One of America's of course. The blazing colours of his flag decorated the bag and made it quite obvious. England groaned slightly when he lifted the bag from the rack and pulled it a good distance away to make room for the rest of their luggage. "Arthur?"

"I'm fine, sir, just at the baggage claim. We've had to take a bit of a detour, sir," England told the other. Phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, he pulled one of his own cases off the line-up. He pulled it back to sit beside America's loud luggage case.

"What kind of detour?" England could sense the warning in the Prime Minister's voice. It wasn't his fault! If America had actually done as he'd said and they'd gone in the right order this would be happening! "Arthur?"

"Just to Louisiana." England winced when he heard the rather large amount of yelling on the other end of the line. "I was just calling to check in, sir, there's no reason to have me brought home." The Englishman couldn't help the small degree of worry he held that the Prime Minister would force him to come home. As much as the trip unnerved him, it was nearly three months of uninterrupted time with America, a luxury he would probably never have again.

"We're just setting up some security measures quick. You're security should be there in an hour, so stay out of trouble will you, Arthur? the Prime Minister asked in an almost weary tone.

Withholding a groan of displeasure at the notion of having a posse of security agents, England replied, "Do I really need a security detail, sir?" He could gain the upper hand against the entire detail himself in a fight, of that he was sure, let alone anyone trying to attack him. "Alfred will be with me the entire time, sir, is there really and need for such security." If England couldn't gain the upper hand over an attacker, America surely could.

"There's always need for security when it comes to you, Arthur." England sighed wearily. He'd just have to make sure they lost the tail if America ever decided to actually take him out on a date during their visit.

"I have to go now, sir," England told his boss in a tired voice. America was waving at him enthusiastically from the doorway to apparently signify that he'd found and hailed a cab for the both of them.

"Be careful, Arthur."

"I will, sir."

Slipping the closed phone into his pocket, he lifted a bag in each hand. America hurried over to take the both of them. England allowed the American nation to guide him to the waiting cab.

Small tassels bordered the top of the windows, trimming the rims of the wheels as well. Putting the bags into the trunk a pretty young blonde made her way to America's side. "Ready to go, Dad?" She smiled at him before merely shooting England a glare before climbing into the driver's seat.

"That's Francie," America introduced happily opening the door for England to climb inside. He himself hopped into the passenger side to happily play with the radio in the front. He turned it toward a jazzy, blues station.

"Dad, I do listen to normal music, y'know," the petite blond up front informed her father while starting the engine to the car. "I don't just listen to the blues like Penny only listens to classical music. I'm up-to-date in the latest fashions."

America smiled happily over at her, "I know," he answered. "I just like listening to your music when I'm down here." His grin lightened over her and she shared the grin with him. It seemed like the two didn't receive the opportunity to see each other often. At least, not as often as New York was allowed to see America which made sense given that they lived so close to each other. New York probably had the opportunity to see America whenever he wanted too.

"How often do you visit your children, Alfred?" England couldn't help but ask from the back seat. He rarely visited his family. He never - if he could help it - visited his immediate family. France, Japan, and Australia were the countries that England visited the most - other than America, of course - but Japan could hardly be considered family. France really wasn't family anymore either.

America smiled a bit sadly across the car at one of his many daughters. "Not nearly enough," he sighed a bit sadly speaking more to her than he did to the Englishman in the seat behind his own. "I'll make sure to visit more often," he promised Louisiana quietly.

The young state simply shrugged. "Don't worry about it, Dad," she said resignedly though didn't seem to really mean her words. That didn't seem to phase America though. He seemed to take her words to heart and visibly relaxed. England was sure the other's dense ways must have bothered quite a few of the states as it seemed to be doing to Louisiana now. "We all know you're busy. Mike says you're not usually at home, let alone would you have time to visit all of us all the time."

"We do get to see everyone for holidays though. Arthur you're definitely coming to family Christmas this year." America flashed one of his breath-taking smiles back at the Englishman who nodded though felt a bit of a rush at the notion. He wasn't sure that was such a good idea. The flash of angry blue eyes in the rear-view mirror told him that Louisiana didn't seem to think it was a very good idea either. He wasn't family. Maybe to America, but certainly not to the states.

A few minutes of quiet jazz later and they were pulling up to a beautiful flat in the French Quarter of New Orleans. The very sight brought a smile to Louisiana's face as she stopped the engine. America didn't hurry to open England's door this time and the older blond couldn't help but feel a bit hurt. Instead America was chattering happily with Louisiana as the two left England behind to make their way up to Louisiana's flat.

Now England knew it was more than foolish to feel jealous. It wasn't like this was competition for him. After all, Louisiana was his daughter, it didn't mean that it wasn't competition for the American's attention though. For some reason Louisiana didn't seem to like him, but he'd have to figure out her issues with him along the way.

When England entered the door into the flat a couple feet behind America, the other was already lazing along his daughter's couch in her rather large flat. It was smaller than New York's rather large house but it still held plenty of room, especially for someone living alone. England simply had no room to judge however. He lived alone as well and his home was three times as large as Louisiana's flat.

"Come sit by me," America smiled and patted the couch next to him. Louisiana was out of sight. England finally allowed a smile to return to his lips, something that hadn't happened since they'd set off from the ground in New York. America wrapped an arm around his lover's waist and gently nuzzle his nose into the other's shaggy hair.

"Alfred!" England practically shrieked when America's fingers dug into his side, tickling him into the couch. England patted at his tried to escape as far as he could from the other which really wasn't that far. America soon had his trapped, kissing his neck as much as he could while the fingers still dug at his sides. "Alfred, stop that immediately!" the Englishman demanded through gasps of air.

A chuckle escaped America's lips as he nuzzled the other's neck. He did relent in his motions though. "You know you love it. Anyway, you've been a debby downer since we got here."

"Ignoring your complete Americanism, I am not!" England pouted. A tut from the corner caught their attention. Louisiana was standing moodily in the doorway, arms crossed across her chest.

"Dad, will you help me with your luggage?"

"Of course, dear!" America was at her side in a second the both of them ready to retrieve the luggage from the car down on the street.

"I'll come help you," England volunteered immediately. He felt a bit useless so far during the trip. He hadn't done much to help anyone since the trip had begun. America came to his side and pulled him close. England knew what was coming next and the frown he nearly always kept on his face reappeared.

America kissed his forehead tenderly. "You stay here. We'll be right back. Why don't you go upstairs and get some sleep before dinner?" America suggested. He seemed genuinely worried about England's well=being and seemed to think sleep would help. "Francie's making us dinner! She's a great cook!" England perked up at the mention of food and America's eyes widened. "Make sure to stay out of the kitchen though. Francie gets really crazy when it come to her food."

With another pout England nodded. He hated that America seemed to be treating him as a delicate child this entire trip thus far. What had changed? Since when had he become a glass figure to the American? "Upstairs, the first door will be the one you're staying in," Louisiana said from the door. She seemed to be waiting impatiently for her father to join her.

With a smile and another kiss to the forehead, America hurried to his daughter's side before they made their way downstairs. With a sigh, England took the advice of the other two and made his way up the stairs from the living room to the upper floor. Large windows brought a large amount of light into the rooms because there were no curtains pulled to obscure the bright light.

When he'd reached the upper floor, he paused to find the door on which belonged to his and America's guest room. However, he was faced with a dilemma immediately. There were two door directly across from each other. England nervous placed a hand on the knob to his right. He'd feel terrible if it was not the guest room. It would almost be like snooping into Louisiana's personal life when it was quite clear that the state didn't particularly like him.

Pushing open the door England came face to face with pictures. Hundreds upon hundreds of pictures were pasted to the walls. Shelves were attached to the walls littered with more pictures, these ones framed. They all captured the same image as well. They were all pictures of France. _France._

Mentally gagging, England pulled the door shut to quickly exit. He breathed heavily to catch his breath, grimacing at the sight from inside the room. What exactly had that been about? The image would be forever engraved into his mind. In fact, he could practically see the room whenever he closed his eyes as if it had been burnt into the back of his eye lids.

Deciding that he had definitely chosen the wrong door, he quickly pulled open the other door. On one hand, this was the guest room at least, on the other hand, France was laid out on the bed with a novel in hand. First of all, France was reading a book which was a ridiculous notion in itself. Second of all, it was France.

"Ah, Angleterre," France said, glancing over the top of his novel. He quickly returned his eyes before shutting the dog-tagged paperback and setting it down on the table beside the bed. He pulled himself from the bed and straightened his shirt. "Is Francie done with dinner yet?" he questioned rather normally. England just stared dumbly across the room at him. With a sigh, France came to his side. He tapped the Englishman's jaw. "Really, gaping is not all the becoming of anyone, let alone yourself, Angleterre."

Regaining the ability to talk also brought anger to the Englishman's voice. This was France though, anger was a normal reaction when seeing the taller blond. "What are you doing here?" he practically snarled at the other. The Frenchman simply rolled his eyes.

"I come here quite often, Angleterre. Louisiana did used to be one of my own. The real question is, what are you doing here?"

"I'm visiting the daughter of my boyfriend!"

France raised a delicately manicured eyebrow. "That is interesting, non?"

"Something wrong, Artie? You're being kinda loud," America's equally loud voice said as he stomped up the stairs. England refused to move even as he heard America come up behind him. "I didn't think you'd be here, Francis. In fact, Francie told me you wouldn't be here." America seemed weary to speak with the other but not particularly surprised.

"You knew he'd be here?" England demanded a bit angrily at the American.

America shrugged. "No, didn't you listen? Francie told me he wouldn't be here." America stepped forward to wrap his arms around England's middle. "Calm down, Artie," he pleaded quietly. It was common knowledge that the Englishman refused to tolerate the Frenchman, even for a little while. The World Meetings spoke enough about that truth. "He likes to come and visit Francie when he's not doing anything."

England wrestled himself away before pointing accusingly at the Frenchman. "I don't want him here, Alfred," he growled while looking at the French nation. "I refuse to stay anywhere that he is staying," England spat. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Then you can leave."

"Francie, please," America begged quietly.

"No, Dad!" Louisiana shouted at him. She'd apparently come up the stairs and into the room at some point. "No one wants him here anyway!"

"Francie!"

"I'm not a little girl anymore, Dad, and I don't want him in my house!"

France came to her side. "Calm yourself," he told her gently. He ran a hand through her blonde hair soothingly. "Alfred and I will wait downstairs, non? You and Arthur can talk and work things out? You should not send him away, Francie. He loves your father very much and would like to love you just as much." The Frenchman pressed a kiss to her forehead and beckoned to the American who seemed reluctant but followed him out, shutting the door quietly.

"I don't like you," Louisiana informed him when the two had left.

"You're quite a lot like Alfred, did you know?" England couldn't help but ask. It came out as more of a snap than he'd intended, but he wasn't quite pleased. He wanted to have all of America's children accept him but that had been a faraway dream, and he knew it. Two states in and one of them already hated him.

Louisiana just shrugged.

"May I ask why you don't like me?" England asked. He managed to calm his voice when he asked until it was more soothing.

"Your stupid oil spill for one," she growled at him. England could have groaned at that but refused to do so. It was completely unfair to blame England for the spill. It would be like blaming America for the decline in his economy. He really had no control over such a thing. England didn't feel like informing her of that though and earning more anger. "I hate to see Dad in such a bad mood all the time too. He's been depressed ever time I've seen him since the two of you got together."

A frown tugged at England's lips at that though. America seemed depressed that the two of them were together? He was so affectionate most of the time.

"I - I didn't know why he would be like that." His voice was quiet when he spoke, head hung to obscure his frown. "I'm glad you informed me though."

"I don't want to see Dad so sad anymore. That's not even to mention the things that Francis says about you. You're lucky I even let you into my house," she glared at him with strong distaste in her blue eyes. "Francis is like my second father," she informed him when she received a pause. "I know he left me once before when he gave me to Dad, but it was the best thing he could have done. Otherwise I wouldn't be who I am. We're just catching up again. I've had a bit of an _obsession_ with trying to contact him until the past few years."

That was quite obvious to the island nation given what he'd seen in the other room.

A faint, bitter smile escaped onto England's lips. "We're quite a lot alike too, did you know that?" She huffed in agitation at the fact that he'd compared the two of them but didn't interrupt other than that. "Alfred left me like Francis left you, but you know that already. We're simply doing what the two of you are and trying to come back together. I love Alfred, and now that I know something is wrong between the two of us, I'll make sure to set it right. I've waited too long to give up on us now."

With pursed lips Louisiana didn't say anything.

"I know how much the two of you need to see each other, I know Alfred doesn't receive the blessing of seeing any of you very often, so I won't force him to leave until he's done with his visit. I also understand that now that he's dating me he has even less time to spend with the fifty of you, and I apologize for that as well. I need him just as much as all of you do, and while I feel sorry for monopolizing his time I don't regret it. I'll book a room at a hotel down the street so I'm no longer a bother. I thank you for your time, Louisiana."

England made his way to the door, past the pretty, blonde state. He left quietly, shutting the door behind himself as he made his way down to America and France on the ground floor of the flat. France looked up from the newspaper while America smiled brightly from the couch where he was flipping through channels.

The Englishman could sense the worry in America's cerulean eyes however. He smiled lightly to ease the other's worry. That just seemed to increase it however as the American came closer and enveloped the Englishman in his arms. Lips touched the messy top of his head before he simply rested his chin there. England allowed his arms to wrap around the other as well.

"Something's wrong," America whispered somewhere close to his ear. "What is it?"

"Am I holding you back?"

"Aww, Artie!" America laughed. The feeling vibrated through his chest against the other's cheek. England couldn't help but smile at the feeling of mirth that came from the other. "Why would you think that."

"Just...heard some stuff."

"I bet you did." There was a light growl of disapproval in the other's voice. "What did she say to you?" England shook his head so he could refuse to answer. "Arthur?" Oh, no, he'd pulled out the use of his full human name. America only did that when he was extremely worried or angry.

Turning his head, England allowed himself to rest against the American. "She just told me you're always depressed whenever she sees you. She believes that would be my doing and I have to say I must agree with her. We fight so much, Alfred. I never mean any of it though. I'm sorry I'm such a dolt all the time."

"While I'm not sure I know what a dolt is, I'm pretty sure you're not one," America laughed lightly again. "Just so you know the only reason I'm so sad when I'm around all the kids I because you're not there with me. I only get to see them on the holidays and I just wish you could be there with me. So technically I am sad because of you." America laughed, "That's why I invited you to Christmas this year!"

"Could you have said so sooner, idiot?" England smiled and pressed their lips together.

At some point toward the beginning of their conversation, France had slipped out of the room to shut the door quietly behind himself though neither of the other two blonds had noticed. From there he and Louisiana had pressed their ears flush against the wooden door to hear as much as they could from the other side, smiling at each other over a mission accomplished.

/**Author's Note: **So this one is a little more on the depressing side. It's also really long and I'm not sure how it turned out. Any opinions on how it is anyone?

Also, I've always hated it when author's don't post for about a month and say something along the lines of 'I was busy with school and finals!' and stuff like that. I now apologize for ever feeling like that! I have been so overloaded with speech, finals, and school work that I haven't even had the opportunity to _think_ about posting!

Reviews=love (as always ^^ )


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